Three Wishes(79)

“How is she?” Laura asked, her voice coated with concern.

“I gave her a mild sedative. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do but wait it out. She says they go away after she’s had a sleep. It’s just finding sleep through the pain.”

“I’ll check on her.” Laura moved toward the hall but stopped at the doctor’s next words and turned back.

“No, don’t. She needs peace and most of all, she needs quiet. She has to fight this on her own. She told me they only last a few hours, she just needs sleep.”

“What causes it?” Laura asked,.

“A variety of things.” He was efficiently packing his bag. He’d been called away from a hefty patient schedule. However, when Nate McAllister called, anyone who got the call instantly did his bidding even general practitioners.

Laura’s tone was coated with concern when she queried, “Is it… could it be something serious? Something –”

“Mrs. Roberts, it’s likely nothing,” Dr. Sims assured. “She says she’s been suffering them since she was a child. If you’re worried, get her to see a neurologist, get an MRI.”

Nate spoke for the first time since the doctor came into the room. “Set it up.”

Dr. Sims shifted his surprised eyes to Nate. “I’m sorry?”

“Refer her to a neurologist,” he ordered.

“She might have already seen one. Sometimes the pain is stubborn and they might not be able to tell you much. She obviously knows her triggers, how to cope.”

“Do it,” Nate clipped out.

At his tone, and the hard, set look on Nate’s face, Dr. Sims nodded.

“Tomorrow,” Nate demanded.

“Of course,” the physician finished settling his bag, “she should be fine in a few hours. If anything happens, call me.”

Then he was gone.

Laura was back at her handbag, gathering her things.

“I’ll do a little shopping. She should stay with you tonight,” Laura said decisively. “I’ll make sure she’s comfortable.”

His mother walked to Nate and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then she too was gone.

At these sudden departures, Nate found he had time to think.

However, Nate didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to think of Lily alone and battling pain in his bed. He didn’t want to think of Lily suffering that way again, much less that she’d done it since she was a child. He didn’t want to think how little he knew her even though he remembered even the most infinitesimal detail of every moment he’d shared with her.

Therefore, he didn’t think.

He phoned his office and had them courier work to him but told them under no circumstances to ring the doorbell. He took off his suit jacket and his tie, loosening the buttons of his shirt at his throat. He quietly checked on Lily twice, both times, thankfully, she was sleeping. His mother arrived several hours later with enough glossy shopping bags so that Lily could stay a month, much less a night.

And through this time, Nate kept his mind on his work and he waited. And he kept absolute silence. And he kept careful, deliberate control on his fury.

Hours later, he walked away from the dining room table where he’d set up his temporary office rather than working in his study which was on the other side of the apartment and too far away from Lily. He went into the bedroom to find a change of clothes, hoping Lily would now sleep through any noise.

When he arrived, the bed was empty. Lily was gone.

He stood stock-still in the door, a strange sense of unease filling him even though he knew she couldn’t have really gone.

Then he heard a noise and his head jerked around.

She was wearing his dressing gown and standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She was leaning against the doorjamb, the balls of one foot pressing against the top of the other.

He remembered her standing exactly like that eight years ago. Nate had remembered that vision of her, their first night together, time and again over the years.

That once painful memory sliced through him. If Lily was in London to tell him “no” then he’d have this memory to add to his tortuous inventory.

With determination, he set that thought aside.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked in a quiet voice.

She nodded, pushed away from the doorjamb and walked to the bed.

He walked toward her and while he did so, he spoke. “Is the pain gone?”

“Yes. I just feel weird afterwards. Exhausted but able to function. I don’t know, it feels like I’ve been in some kind of battle.”

She stopped by the bed, leaned over and grabbed her dress. He stopped by her, reached out and gently pulled her dress from her fingers.

“You have,” he stated matter-of-factly.

She was staring at her dress in his hand and, at his words, her eyes lifted to his.

“I haven’t. It’s no big thing, it’s just a headache.” She was trying to pass it off as if it was nothing.

Nate never forgot anything but even if he had that luxury, he’d never forget the sound of her keening.

“Trust me, you have. I saw you do it.”

Clearly not wishing to argue, she changed the subject and asked quietly, “Can I have my dress please?”

He tossed it on the bed deliberately out of her immediate reach. She watched it land and made no comment. It was then Nate noted that she looked slightly dazed.